A Hair

She got a bad haircut. When she went to fix that, she got talked into a perm. Then she made the fatal error of saying she liked the hairdresser’s hair. But she did. It was medium length with big soft curls that began at the height of her eyes and ended with its curled tips pointing gently to her breasts. She forgot she didn’t have the hairdresser’s young face, her big brown eyes, her closed pores.

Self Defense

All of us mothers are afraid of rape. Not for ourselves, though God knows that could still happen. No, we are afraid of sending our daughters off to college to be raped by boys who look like our sons. What a strange, fucked up thing that is, that the boys we raise in our well-appointed houses in our well-laid out towns will be the ones who will date rape our daughters when they are both drunk beyond all reasoning. When we mothers speculate about this we think it probably has to do with all the free porn available on the internet, porn where the girls get tied up, spit on, choked, verbally assaulted. Those who don’t have children might say, why don’t you restrict what they can see on the internet to which we say, we have but then they can’t do their homework. The apps that would keep our children away from the filth we don’t want them to see can’t distinguish from the filth we do want them to see — the aftermath of war, political violence, sexual assault, etc.